Chapter 2: Locked Down

I force myself calm down, no send that message to 302.

I sit down for sofa, try arrange my brain. Na fear dey everywhere. I dey count my breath: one, two, three. My hand dey tremble, but I tell myself say I go reason am well, no go dey rush.

Instead, I run go group-buy chat, begin scroll up to see who post that wicked thing.

I dey tap screen, scroll like say na fuel scarcity dey worry me. I dey look for handle, profile pic, anything. Na our own estate group—everybody get one kind avatar, some use pikin photo, some na car.

But the link don disappear.

E be like when juju man waka pass—no trace, but everybody dey feel am. No trace of the message, like say spirit delete am. I rub my eye, try scroll again, nothing.

I no even notice who post am before—person delete am?

For WhatsApp, e easy to delete message, but who get mind do am after this kain wahala? E fit mean say the person dey watch us, dey plan am sharp-sharp.

I think am well, decide say I need better help: police.

Na so I reason. For this Naija, e get as police dey, but when kasala burst, na them get gun, na them people dey fear. I no fit trust any neighbor now. If wahala go catch me, at least make I call police first.

After all, na new resettlement estate be this. Just two blocks open, everybody just move in. Only group chats na to buy home appliances—nobody know anybody well. You fit pass your neighbor for corridor, just nod head—no time for long talk, everybody dey hustle.

Our estate still dey fresh, dem never even finish the main gate. Dem dey use iron pole and plank for security. Na only group-buy, group-taxi, and emergency alert WhatsApp we get. I no sabi who dey live near me—some people never even paint their flat.

I trust police pass any neighbor.

I type my message with hope say dem go respond well. For Lagos, na police matter dey serious pass neighbor wahala. I dey reason say, if I raise alarm, e go help me escape danger.

So I type for group: "Anybody still dey awake? I wan call police. Later, abeg help confirm say I too receive group-buy death threat."

My thumb dey sweat. I press send. I dey hope say at least one person go reply, make I no dey alone for this wahala.

101, downstairs, reply sharp: "Police just comot my side. Dem go soon reach your door."

Na so I stand up from chair, dey look door, dey wonder whether to off light or just carry my phone go hide for kitchen cupboard.

Na that time, my doorbell ring.

E shock me. For Naija, person no dey ring bell for 3am unless wahala dey. My heart nearly jump come out for chest. I tiptoe, carry slipper gentle for leg, no wan make noise.

I rush look peephole. True, na police officer, full uniform, stand outside.

The man tall, face strong like Lagos LASTMA, beret bend for head, torch dey shine for my face. I look him face well, try remember if I don see am for estate before. E stand with confidence, as if e know say everybody suppose fear am.

I open door. Before I talk, e shout: "Police dey handle case for here. Lock your door and window. No try comot."

E voice loud, carry command. E look me up and down, no smile. Na so our police dey—sometimes e hard to know if na your friend.

But I no fit hold am: "Na about the murder for Block A? Dem never catch the killer?"

I no fit keep quiet. My mouth just open, wahala full my mind.

E just eye me, voice cold: "No dey spread rumor or talk wetin you no sure. If you disturb public order, na cell you go first enter."

Na so the officer eye me like say I be small pikin. E hiss, adjust him belt, no even look me again. E step aside, start dey waka go stairs like say I no exist.

With that, e waka go third floor.

I just dey look am, my mind no settle.

I fit hear him boot for stairs, echo dey bounce for corridor. I jam door quick, lock am with key, still add chair for back. E get as my body dey do me—na fear, but na anger dey join too.

One: the murder for Block A na true.

At least now, I sabi say e no be joke. My hand still dey shake as I think say, person really don die. Na Naija we dey, and for this kain estate, e hard for police to just dey waka for nothing.

Two: something dey bother me—

E get as e be say the officer come alone. For this kain case, e suppose come with another person. My papa always dey talk say police dey work in twos, at least for safety.

Police no dey work in pairs?

My mind dey flash back to all those police drama wey I watch for Africa Magic. For big case, na two or three officers dey show. Only when wahala small dem go send one person. This one too big for one man.

Why e come alone?

I dey pray say dem no go ask for recharge card before dem move.

As I realize am, another wahala enter my mind—

E fit be say even police no pure?

My skin just stand. For Naija, sometimes the person wey suppose dey help fit turn the real wahala. I dey reason now say, if police dey do as e like, who go save us?

I dey wonder if I suppose thank am or lock am outside join.